Short Story

Four propellers cut through the air – interminable and unending as the aircraft chased the setting sun.

Birds flew close to the white beast as it whistled above the cliff. It had done so countless times. Lights blinked and cameras focused, mapping and fixing its target: the endless dusk, high above the world.

The old man watched each face as his motorcade weaved through the cheering crowd. Some hadn’t eaten for days, their hollow eyes begging his blessing.

Through the car’s speakers, a voice was listing the itinerary of the day.

“At 8 you have the talk in the main square. We’ve already prepared it – the usual concern for the poor, a wish to heal old wounds and reach across divides.”

The old man smiled to the crowd.

“Later, we need to discuss the portfolio. $30bn is still tied up in Switzerland.”

“Leave it there,” the old man growled. “All of it.”

(c) Tim Austin, 2016. Image by Nacho Arteaga via Unsplash.

“Saint” was suggested by bestselling author Sue London, whose various (superb!) works can be found on Amazon, here, alongside other outlets. If following people on Twitter is your bag, you can find Sue @cmdrsue.

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